


Nymphadora

by Quantum_Overload



Series: Forgotten Files [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Constructive Criticism Welcome, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Overload/pseuds/Quantum_Overload
Summary: The last time I saw her was on a Saturday.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character
Series: Forgotten Files [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089077





	Nymphadora

The last time I saw her was on a Saturday.

It was a slow day, unusual but not shocking considering who was here to visit. Siana had arrived last night and was lounging on one of the vivid, plush crimson couches of the common room; a room that she had designed and helped to construct. She wore baggy grey sweatpants and a soft cerulean hoodie that was thick and silky and tucked itself neatly around her body. She collapsed onto the couch, promptly shrinking into the fabric of her hoodie as a serene smile stretched across her face and her inconspicuous magenta hair pooled around her shoulders.  


Moments later, Peter came crashing down the staircase. He didn't make any audible sounds (which was rare for him), but his presence was bombastic and unsubtle; like he had a magnetic field that drew trouble his way. Peter was beat, dark circles weighted his cheeks, his hair was unkempt and his footsteps were heavy. He was wearing a matching set of red sleeping clothes that were detailed with abstract yellow and blue shapes; it was a pattern that matched the walls of the dorms suspiciously well.  


He made a beeline towards Siana dropping back onto the armrest of the couch before falling into her. Siana reacted without fanfare and easily complied with the unspoken request: to disappear, leaving behind burdens and responsibility for just a little while; to embrace each other and all the gentle care that came with it, saying hello after such a long time; to become something entirely new, yet always so familiar.  


When the glow had abated Nymphadora remained, a complementary blend of everything in her two components; a fusion. She was just as unassuming as Siana was and as obvious as Peter. Nymph wore loose, aqua coloured cloth that rested like cresting waves on the couch beneath her, with gold and red accents that radiated warmth. Her eyes were half-lidded, tired but relaxed, and her hair a ruffled short crop brown. Nymph wasn't an unexpected accessory whenever Siana visited. She was often used as a way for the pair that composed her to relax and be together after long periods apart; as was their intent in her... existence now. She wasn't unwelcome, but she was... vexing. Where her two components were determined, outrageous, chatty and always active. Nymphadora was apathetic, lazy, blunt and revelled in simply, existing. It was jarring. But here, in the outlandish common room Siana constructed to keep us safe and comfortable, one built because Peter could keep adopting lost kids like us for the academy, she fit. I suppose Nymph and the common room were two of a kind in that regard; composed of all their best and worst habits and born because they came together with a common goal. Besides, she represented everything they were to each other, she made them happy, she made them happy.  


But this wasn't her. This wasn't who I had come to know, to expect, to appreciate. This was something else entirely. The common room had been decimated, torn apart and blown away despite all its security, structural stability and the insurmountable care that brought it together. I was alright, shocked but unharmed and had turned to Nymphadora only to do a double-take. The red that connected her to Peter and the walls was gone, replaced by glaring white spots and sharp black clasps that accentuated her wrists and shins. The aqua blue silk that ebbed around her body with an ethereal nature was washed away in favour of sharp gold plating that glared with the rage of Hyperion. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stared down those who had invaded her territory; destroyed something that she held precious. Gone was the lax in her muscles, gone was her ability to automatically melt away unseen when an entire battalion of eyes converged on her. Now, she stood before her opponents radiating pure disdain and contempt. A massacre of cardinals woven out before me, Nymphadora decimating those who damaged our home. Once brilliant red and blue turned to violent, merciless wrath. And, as quick as the facade had cracked along cardinal and silver seams, the thread was cut and the threat lay beneath our feet.  


Then, she swerved around to face me. Her face stained pale, her eyes worn and stern. My eyes traced the tenderness of her mouth, a sagging smile that tempered her taught steel limbs. I lifted my scrutiny to her eyes, and beyond the stalwart set, they blazed with a fire familiar. One she had slipped behind a mask of lethargy. A protectiveness that radiated, reflecting and refracting onto those around them, from the fluid duo that comprised her. A connection and familiarity she had never lost...  


The first time I saw her was on a Saturday.


End file.
